


Bunnies

by Xqueenie



Series: Bunnies [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Harem, Healthy Polyamorous Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Playboy Bunny AU, Threesomes, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3319067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xqueenie/pseuds/Xqueenie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom is a 16-year-old runaway with nowhere to go and no one to turn to, and Chris just wants to help him out. But Chris's personal life is nothing Tom could have imagined--could he have ulterior motives for helping Tom out? Or is he just as sincere as he seems?</p><p>---</p><p>This is actually the filthiest thing I have ever written and will ever write, based on a dream that I actually had.</p><p>I am going to hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bunnies

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Underage Twinkie Pie Tom, crossdressing, MAJOR Daddy Kink, filthy smut and threesomes. OwO Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: I now have a [writing blog!](http://xandraqueen.tumblr.com) Come check it out; I'll post updates to my fics as well as some original content.
> 
> EDIT: NOW BUNNIES HAS A SEQUEL! GO CHECK IT OUT!
> 
> ([please consider donating to this Gofundme for me and my girlfriend to get together](https://www.gofundme.com/ncany2jw) )
> 
> I am also now taking requests for [writing commissions!](http://xandraqueen.deviantart.com/journal/Writing-Commissions-573834778) Follow me on [tumblr](http://xandraqueen.tumblr.com) or watch me on dA to submit requests!

Tom hadn't felt so much like shit in his entire life.

First of all, he was so fucking tired. He hadn't slept at all in the past three days, because sleep wasn't a luxury one could afford when travelling alone at the age of 16. Jetlag kept him up the first night, because the flight from London (and the connector from New York to D.C.) was long and uncomfortable. He hadn't found a bus until that next day, and if he'd bothered to sleep, he most likely would have been robbed--he could afford a motel, but not even the most inexpensive shitholes would give a room to an unsupervised 16-year-old. So he spent a frightful four hours in a little church, wondering if he ought to pray for protection. He'd never been very religious in the first place, so he wasn't sure if he ought to; plus, he wasn't sure if God would bother to listen to a pithy little runaway like him.

Second, he was more anxious than he'd been in his entire life. Back in London, his only family was currently unaware of his whereabouts, and he didn't know when they would notice his absence. The first to notice would probably be Greg, his mother's boyfriend, when he finally tore his eyes away from the bloody television long enough to realize that he had no one to beat on. His mother would never notice first, because she was always working. She hardly noticed that he was around even when she was home; because when she was home, she was either too wrapped up in Greg or sleeping. She'd never been right since Tom's father left, probably because Tom reminded her so much of him. Her neglect had begun long before she started dating Greg, but at least she'd never hit him, like Greg did. He figured he'd get out so he didn't bother them anymore, but Tom was terrified that they would find out he emptied his bank accounts--even his college savings, which he "wasn't supposed to touch" (because whenever his mother wasn't looking, Greg skimmed money out of that account for his gambling and drinking habits)--and bought a one-way ticket to D.C. They would come find him and drag him back, and never let him out of the bloody house again.

And then there was the bloody weather. At least London was rainy, because Florida was fucking hot and humid and gross, and Tom was soaked in sweat even an hour after sitting outside in this bus stop in--where the hell was he again? Fort Lauderdale? No, Miami. Fort Lauderdale was the previous stop.

One last time, he glanced up at the boards. The next bus wasn't for another hour, and it was headed back to Atlanta. If he wanted to make sure he was never found by his mother and Greg, he needed to go to the last place on Earth they would look for him. And if that meant living out the remainder of his days in a shack in Key West, then so bloody be it. He wasn't going back to London no matter what--he was determined to disappear, if it was the last thing he did.

It wasn't until he couldn't see the boards anymore that he bothered to wipe the tears from his eyes. Once he did, the tears just wouldn't stop, and a sob forced its way from his chest. He tried to keep as quiet as he could, but he could only do so much as his crying grew from soft whimpers to all-out, hysterical, terrified and frustrated sobbing. There was barely anyone to notice him here anyway, despite the fact that it was nearly noon (or maybe that was the cause-- everyone might be having lunch).

He didn’t know how long he sat there on that bench, his knees curled into him and his eyes burning with tears. But the next thing he knew, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He scrambled to get off the bench, expecting someone who was going to kidnap or mug him. When he met the face of his “attacker”, he found startled blue eyes and an apologetic smile. While he tried to calm his pounding heart, he looked over the rest of this newcomer: scruffy beard, long blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail, a perfectly tailored expensive-looking suit, and-- _ooh_ \--big, strong hands. He was tall, maybe six-foot-three?

Fuck. He was every wet dream Tom had ever had all rolled into one hunk. It would be very hard to run if this guy was planning to harm him--weak knees wouldn’t get him far.

“I’m sorry,” Oh no, he was Australian too. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m-” Tom paused to wipe his face again, but he couldn’t help a stuffy-sounding voice. “I’m fine.”

“Pardon me, but you don’t sound fine.” Hunky Aussie said, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m fine!” Tom insisted. It took all he had to keep his voice from quivering, “I’m just… waiting on my mum. She was gonna meet me here.”

“Alright,” Hunky Aussie smiled at him, and Tom nearly fainted, “It’s just-- I was on my way to lunch, and I saw you crying, so I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” At the mention of food, Tom’s stomach growled loud enough for the man to hear. With a chuckle, he added, “Seems you’re hungry too. Where’s your mum?”

“She, uh--” Tom swallowed and tried to come up with a plausible story, “She was supposed to meet me here, but she said she’ll be late. And I don’t know anyone here, so I was afraid I’d get mugged or kidnapped.”

Fuck, Tom was an awful liar. It was obvious that this guy didn’t believe him, but he said, “Well, I’m sure she’ll be here soon. In the meantime, I’d love to keep you company--maybe you could join me for lunch? There’s a nice little pub one block down.”

Tom gulped. Under different circumstances, he might’ve taken him up on that offer before he was done speaking. But he was in a strange town, with no family or friends in the country, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t trust this guy. He might have been eight months from turning seventeen, but he felt like a little kid at the moment. Like that one time when he was eight and got lost in the park, and couldn’t find his mum.

Finally, he spoke. “I… I want to, but…”

“But?”

“I’m not sure if I should,” Tom fussed with his shirt, avoiding those striking blue eyes. “I mean… I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name.” His stomach growled in protest; burgers sounded amazing right about now.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I’m Chris.” Chris smiled and held out his hand for Tom, “Chris Hemsworth.”

Tom tentatively shook his hand, but pulled back as quick as he could. “Tom.”

“Well, Tom, I don’t think just my name would be enough to convince you to come have a burger with me, will it?” It broke his heart, but Tom shook his head. “Alright then,” Chris nodded, smiling softly at him. (Oh, Tom could live forever and not see a smile more beautiful and simultaneously heartbreaking) “I wish you best of luck. I hope your mum shows up soon.”

With a final smile, Chris turned and began walking back out of the bus station. Tom watched him walk away, and then, without thinking, he grabbed his backpack and ran after him.

“Wait!”

 

*          *          *

Tom was aware of Chris watching him as he dug into his burger. Tom had had plenty of fast food since he got to America, but this wasn’t fast food. This was a medium-rare slab of prime beef that hadn’t come from a freezer, fresh vegetables likely cut by hand, and sauce that didn’t taste like it had been sitting in the sun for three days. Chris seemed incredibly amused by how Tom was devouring his food, but hell if Tom gave a shit. This was the best food he’d had in a long time.

“Slow down there, kid,” Chris laughed as Tom took an especially big bite and dragged a full tomato slice out of the sandwich with his teeth, “the burger’s not going anywhere.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled around his mouthful. Then he swallowed, and continued, “I just haven’t had food like this in forever.”

“Forever, huh?”

Tom shrugged, “Well, in a long time, I guess.”

Chris regarded him with a look Tom didn’t recognize. It seemed like a mixture of pity and concern, but there was something else in there too. Something he hadn’t seen before.

“You and your mum,” Chris said, his voice a little more stern, “where are you two headed?”

Tom was about to ask what he meant, then he quickly remembered his lie and shrugged, “I ‘unno. Away.”

“Why?”

Tom frowned. “Why is it suddenly your business?”

Chris seemed to back off a bit, then he sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t pry--I’m just concerned. Usually someone who eats like that hasn’t eaten for a long time.”

Oh. So Chris either thought he and his “mum” were homeless, or he thought they were running from abuse. Tom’s scowl grew. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m worried for you.” Chris frowned back at him.

Tom only got angrier. “What for? You barely know me; you can’t care about me that much if you don’t know me!” And, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Hell, there are people who _know_ me who don’t care about me like you think you do.” As soon as he said it, he regretted opening his mouth at all.

“Tom,” Chris said, more concern in his voice than before, “Tom, what do you mean?” Quickly, Tom started scrambling to grab his backpack and get up from the table. “Tom, don’t-” He bolted for the door, though why he was running, he didn’t know. Chris, his involvement no longer optional, threw twenty bucks in cash onto the table and ran out after Tom.

Tom had no idea where the hell he could go, but he knew he had to get away. He ran back to the bus station, but when he paused and saw Chris running out after him, he kept going. His lungs burned and his muscles ached from the sudden straining movement, but he pushed on, faster than he’d ever run before. He made a turn down a side street, hoping to lose Chris, but instead, his huge feet got in the way of each other, and he went down, scraping his knees and hands. Finally, he gave up. The same hysteria from earlier overtook him, and he began sobbing again; partially from the pain and partially from frustration and hopelessness.

That’s where Chris finally found him, panting himself but not as out of breath as Tom. He squatted next to the teen and took his hands to check out his scrapes. They weren’t bleeding, but they probably hurt like a bitch.

Chris’s voice was low as he spoke, “I’m sorry, Tom. I just want to help.” Tom whimpered and sniffled, not looking up at him.

“Look,” Chris said sternly, tilting Tom’s chin up to look at him, “I knew you were lying about your mum before. Be honest with me now. Is your mum coming to get you?” After a pause, Tom shook his head. “Are you here alone?” Tom nodded, and Chris went on to ask, “Where are your parents?”

It took a few seconds, but Tom mumbled. “Mum’s in London. Dunno where my dad is.”

“Why are you here by yourself? You’re just a kid.”

Tom glared at him, “I’m 16, I’m not a kid.”

Chris chuckled and put his hands up, “You’re younger than you look, then. But still, 16 is too young to be travelling alone, especially in a country you don’t know.”

Tom cast his eyes down again, and mumbled his answer. When he saw that Chris didn’t hear him, he repeated: “I came here to get away from their house.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “Their?”

Tom nodded and cradled his scraped knees to his chest. “Mum. And her boyfriend.”

Realization sparked in Chris’s eyes, and he asked, “They didn’t…?”

Tom shrugged. “Mum never hit me. Greg is a mean drunk, that’s all.”

There was that look again, but this time it was stronger, and filled with much less pity. This time, Tom could swear that look meant that Chris wanted more than anything to protect him from the evils of this world. Without warning, Chris lifted Tom up (with a lot more ease than Tom expected) and set him on his feet.

“Can you walk?” Tom nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna take you to a little motel I know. I’ll get you a room for two nights, is that alright?” Unsure he’d heard correctly, Tom gaped up at him. Chris chuckled and raised his eyebrows again. “Hm?” Slowly, Tom nodded again. “Good.”

*          *          *

Surprisingly, the motel wasn’t a shithole like Tom had seen before. The room was small and there weren’t many amenities, but it was clean and had a bathroom, bed,  and a TV, which was all he needed, really. (And he wasn’t about to complain that the TV was a dinosaur from the late nineties, either, because it worked.)

He couldn’t thank Chris enough. For him to make a random generous donation to a random kid? Tom had no doubts that he was actually a great guy. One of the greatest-- he could have taken advantage of Tom in some way, and instead he picked up this scrawny little nobody with nowhere to go and no ties to anyone, and he fed him and gave him a place to sleep, even if it was only for two nights.

It had also finally occurred to him that Chris was rich as fuck when he saw the car: a gleaming red Cadillac with a beautiful leather interior (a 2014 CTS, Chris had proclaimed proudly when Tom was gaping at the gorgeous hunk of metal).

The first night was sheer bliss. He could lock the door and sleep and sleep and sleep, and he did; he slept until noon, when Chris called his room to ask if he would have lunch with him again. Tom readily agreed, and showered before heading out to meet Chris in the front.

After a quick hello, Chris knit his eyebrows. “Isn’t that the same thing you wore yesterday?” Shamefully, Tom nodded. In truth, he’d only brought three shirts, one pair of cargo shorts, and one pair of jeans with him to America, figuring that he could buy some more once he found some place to stay. Chris bought him lunch again, but instead of taking him back down to the motel, he took Tom to a little strip mall to buy him some new clothes (and when Tom tried to refuse, saying he didn’t have room in his backpack, Chris bought him a small suitcase).

Jokingly, Tom had tried on a girl’s shirt and shorts to show Chris--well, Tom sometimes _liked_ to wear girly stuff, but he’d never told anyone that. So he played it off as a joke when he came out in a drape top with a black lace back and a faded picture of a beach on the front. Chris, however, looked like his eyes were going to come popping out of his head. When Tom saw how Chris was looking at him, he blushed and quickly went back to change.

On the ride back to the motel, they were uncomfortably quiet, until Chris cleared his throat.

“So, um… where are you headed from here?”

Oh. Tom hadn’t thought about that. “Uh… I don’t know. Key West I suppose?” When Chris gave him a questioning look, Tom shrugged, “I don’t know. My plan was to get as fast as I could to a place my mum or Greg would never think to look, if they ever come looking for me.”

“Well,” Chris’s tone sounded a bit forced, “Wherever you’re going, I’ll get you there. I’ll get you a bus ticket.”

Tom immediately felt sad. But going all the way down there would mean he might not see Chris again. And suddenly, even though he’d only known Chris for two days, he didn’t want that. Chris was the first friend he’d made in America, so Tom felt a need to cling to him. But Chris had his own life, a job, a house (or at least an apartment)-- maybe even a spouse or significant other. Tom couldn’t hold onto him forever; then he’d just be a burden.

“Right.” He said softly.

The next morning, he was reluctant to get out of bed. Who knows when he might have his own bed again? He just wanted to stay there forever. He wanted to see Chris more. But he knew he couldn’t, so he tried not to cry as he stuffed his new clothes into the suitcase Chris got him.

Chris picked him up that afternoon, and while he kept a straight face, Tom could tell that he was reluctant to be sending Tom away too. The whole ride to the bus station, Tom stared out the window, hiding tears.

“Tom, we’re here.”

Tom didn’t move to get up, but he wiped his eyes.

“Are you… Tom, are you crying?” Tom shook his head, but Chris moved his hands away from his face and looked at him with those bright blue eyes, no longer attempting to hide his sadness. “Tom, come on. Talk to me.”

“I…” Tom choked on his words. There was a war going on in him; tell him? Don’t tell him? Open up to this man that helped you, or close off because he’s sending you away? “I… I don’t want to go.”

“You… don’t want to go?” Chris stroked his cheek with his thumb.

“N-no!” Tom broke out into sobs again, “I don’t have a plan, I left my family behind, I’m barely old enough to work, I have nothing here! B-but… But you helped me. You…” Why was this so hard? “You’re… the only friend I have right now, and… I don’t want to go.”

Chris was quiet a long time. Then, he sighed and brought his forehead to rest against Tom’s and continued stroking his cheek. “...Stay with me.”

“H-huh?” Tom pulled back to look at him.

“Stay with me,” Chris repeated, “Come home with me. I promise I won’t… I won’t hurt you, or assault you-- I have other people that live with me too. I can’t bear to send you off on your own with no one to be there for you. Please, let me help you. Come live with me.”

Tom didn’t know what he was getting himself into, but his other option seemed far less appealing than going home with this man he barely knew. Maybe he was being naive, or maybe he was being an absolute idiot, but he had no other option.

“I will.”

*          *          *

Chris’s house wasn’t a house.

It was a goddamn mansion.

Tom couldn’t put into words how amazing the mansion was-- it almost reminded him of an Italian villa, with red-tiled roofs, a tiled courtyard, cobblestone pathways and beige-colored stone walls, but it was thoroughly modern in design. Arches curved high above his head, and from where he stood, gazing up at the amazing architecture, he counted three floors? Maybe two, but with a middle spire that curled upward like the fabled tower Rapunzel lived in all her life.

Chris took his bags from him, and although Tom insisted he could carry them, Chris merely chuckled and slung an arm around Tom’s shoulders as they walked into the enormous house. The instant Tom crossed the threshold into the house, he heard something smash and raised voices.

_“I told you not to fuck with my records!”_

“Oh boo-hoo! Get an iPod, you fucking hippie!”

“Jesus fucking christ, will you two stop bitching? I’m getting a fucking migraine.”

Then one of the previous voices mumbled, “Genuine Beatles vinyl, 1962. And he says ‘get an iPod’. Fucking zombie.”

Chris sighed and muttered, “Sorry, I’ll handle this.” He led Tom into a rather large sitting room, with an enormous L-shaped white and red couch, a matching loveseat and a huge brown armchair. A huge flat-screen TV hung on the wall opposite the doorway, and two steps led down to the room, entirely covered in beige carpet.

Reclined sideways in the huge brown armchair was a young man with wavy dirty blonde hair, wearing a baggy black shirt and dark blue jeans, and reading a magazine. The other two occupants of the room must have been the ones fighting. Both of them were black-haired and green-eyed, but one of them wore nothing but a red striped dressing down, and his hair was coarse and maybe a bit frizzy. The other was dressed in a black tank top and bright neon pink skinny jeans, and his hair was very well-taken-care-of (interesting layers of black curled upwards at the end, almost like claws). The latter had on better makeup than Tom had seen on some women, even, but the former looked like he should be sleeping in a coffin and feeding on the blood of virgins. With no offense meant to the former.

“Are you two fighting again?” Chris finally asked, grinning at his housemates, “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

Each of them hailed a greeting to Chris: from “Chris!!” to “Welcome home Chris~” to “Hey, Chris”. And the guy sitting sideways in the chair, who had looked up from his magazine to welcome Chris home, finally noticed Tom standing in the doorway. A devilish grin crept onto his face, and he pushed himself up from the chair to stride over to take a better look at him.

“Well, well. New meat?” He asked. Chris acted as a protective barrier between the guy and Tom, blocking his path. While Tom fully expected the guy to get angry with Chris and try to force his way around him, he was dead wrong. The guy only turned his hungry gaze to Chris, threw his arms around his neck and laid a messy kiss on him. And much to Tom’s shock, Chris didn’t shove him off or protest--he even wrapped his arms around the guy’s waist and kissed back. When the shorter one pulled back, they pulled apart as if nothing had happened.

Tom’s heart sank. Chris _was_ taken, just like he’d been afraid of. But he tried his best to swallow the lump in his throat; Chris was giving him a place to stay, maybe even for good. He could deal with it.

“Tom,” Chris said, turning to him finally. “This is Hal.” Hal turned to Tom and gave him a wink. “And Loki.” The black-haired guy in the pink pants gave Tom a curt nod. “And Adam.” The only other occupant of the room paused to glance at him from under that frizzy hair, but said nothing and left the room.

“Don’t mind Adam. He’s convinced we’re all not worthy of his presence,” Hal, who had shifted around Chris to stand next to Tom, “Nice to meet you, Tom. Welcome to the Bunnies.”

Tom looked at him, blinking in confusion. “Bunnies? What do you--”

Chris was quick to answer him, ushering him out of the room. “It’s just a nickname they’ve given each other. Let’s get you settled in.”

Tom didn’t see the look Hal and Loki exchanged. Chris took his suitcase and backpack and led him upstairs, and as they reached the little catwalk, another man appeared from one of the rooms down the hall. This one was older, with a little bit of stubble and short, strawberry blonde hair. He grinned when he saw Chris and Tom

“Chris! Welcome back. Who’s this?”

“William, this is Tom. Tom, William.”

William went to shake Tom’s hand, looking much happier than the others had that Tom was here. “Please, just call me Will. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you! Will you be staying with us?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Lovely!” If that grin could get any wider, it did. Will bent a bit to plant a friendly kiss on Tom’s cheek. “Oh, I’ll make you a nice little welcome dinner! What would you like?”

“Uhh…” After a glance at Chris, who looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh, Tom stammered, “I- uh… I don’t know? Anything is fine, I guess.”

“Aww, so cute. Alright, I’ll get to making dinner. Again, welcome Tom!” With another happy grin, Will jogged down the stairs and disappeared.

“...okay what pill is he on and where can I get some?”

Chris broke into laughter.

He let Tom take possession of one of his spare rooms, which had a simple full-size bed (which Tom assured Chris, was more than enough), a small dresser, closet, and a beautiful view of the ocean that was practically in Chris’s backyard.

“Wow! I know you said you lived in the Keys, but I had no idea your house was so close to the sea!” Tom exclaimed as he gazed out the window.

“That’s actually our own little private beach. I’ll take you out and show you, if you’d like.” Chris set Tom’s suitcase on his bed, and grinned when Tom ran over to hug him.

“Thank you so much for this,” Tom said, looking up at him, “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me. This is more than amazing-- I’m still expecting to wake up on that bloody bus station bench any second.”

“It’s not a dream, Tom.” Chris smiled and pat his cheek as they pulled back from the hug, then, to Tom’s surprise, pecked his forehead affectionately. “And you won’t have to repay me for any of this, I promise. Knowing you’re safe is enough for me.” Tom’s heart skipped a beat, but Chris only smiled afterward and turned to go. “I’ll send up Mags with some sheets so you can meet him too-- he’s the last one that lives here, I promise.”

And “Mags”, when he did show up, showed up wearing only a huge t-shirt and-- as far as Tom could see--nothing else. He had blue eyes just like Tom, and his mop of blonde curls was even bigger and fluffier than Tom’s was.

Also, another thing Tom noticed, was that all of these guys that lived in Chris’s house were very similar: same body type, blue or green eyes, same British sort of face, all with British accents. And their hair was varying shades of dark blonde and with either curls or waves-- except for Loki and Adam, of course. Tom was almost suspicious, but he brushed it off.

“So you’re the new guy,” Mags said as he handed Tom his sheets and a thin blanket, “I’m Magnus. Everyone here calls me Mags, so you can if you want.”

Tom nodded and took them. “Tom. Nice to meet you.”

Mags looked him up and down, just as the others had. Tom figured it was just them evaluating their new housemate. “How old are you? You look really young.”

Tom made a face. “Chris said that too. I’m 16. How old are you?” Mags’s face became really somber.

“18,” he answered. “You’re the youngest, then.”

“Yeah?”

Mags nodded, “Yeah. Loki’s 19, Hal’s 21, Adam’s 23, and Will’s 25.”

So they were all sort of young, but now Tom felt like a baby. Mags mumbled another ‘welcome’ and left again, and Tom was left alone.

*          *          *

Within his first month in the house, Tom decided he was really gonna like it here.

Tom still had no idea why the hell the guys liked to be called the “bunnies”, and no one would tell him why. Hal looked like he wanted to, once, but a deathly glare from both Adam and Will shut him up before he could say anything. Each of them all had something that was exclusively their thing--and really, anything went. Tom wasn’t really sure what he liked to do, but everyone else seemed to have it figured out: Adam really liked music (and could play both the drums and guitar really well), Loki was very much into fashion and beauty (and no one seemed to care that it was feminine--it actually looked really good on him), Hal dabbled in this and that--food and dancing and all that fun cultured-type stuff, Will was really into Shakespeare, and even had the occasional acting job in Miami (he was the only one of all of them that had a legitimate job), and Magnus seemed to be into computers and such.

His life had become surreal. Nothing was expected or required of him--except helping clean up and keep the house straightened up (which he was happy to do); he didn’t have to go to school, he didn’t have to worry about applying for jobs or college, he could stay like this forever. And the more time he spent with Chris and the Bunnies, the more he forgot his mother and Greg and his whole life before that fateful afternoon when he met Chris.

Chris remained well; he stayed at the house some days, and some days he had to go to Miami for work. Tom learned that Chris was the owner of a cluster of interconnected social media websites, including a dating website, a website for videos, and a bunch more. His office was in Miami, not even half a mile from that damn bus stop. What are the odds.

Tom started to notice a few more strange things, as much as he liked it here. Chris seemed very flirty with all of them, and no one questioned it. Tom figured perhaps it was an inside joke that he would get eventually, and that it was just how things went here. Sometimes one of them would sit in his lap, no matter what they were doing, and Chris would just smile, pat them, and continue whatever he was up to. Hal seemed the most affectionate towards him, so Tom still had the suspicion that he as Chris’s boyfriend. But Chris was still sweet on Tom, too: the smallest little kisses to his head or cheek, warm hugs that lasted too long-- Tom even thought he felt Chris nuzzle into his neck once. It was entrancing and slightly uncomfortable at the same time, but Tom was too caught up in how amazing life here was to think on it for too long.

One morning at breakfast, Loki suggested they go into town.

“Nah, I’ll stay here,” Mags said immediately. “I’ve got a full day of fucking around on Minecraft to get started on.”

“Oh, don’t be such a hermit,” Loki said, “Vitamin D deficiency is no joke.”

Hal snorted as he lifted a fork of scrambled eggs, “Says the one of us who is pale as a fucking vamp-- oh no, that’s Adam.” He laughed as a piece of sausage flew across the table and hit him in the nose, courtesy of Adam.

“Speaking of Adam~” Loki folded his hands and set his chin on them, smiling sweetly at the other dark-haired boy.

“No.” Adam said firmly.

“You didn’t let me--”

“I know what you’re going to say, and the answer is no.”

“Oh come on, Adam,” Will said. “Don’t be such a sourpuss. I’ll go too.” Will then smiled at Tom, “Tom, will you come?”

Tom nodded happily, and was aware of the amused look Chris was giving all of them. He smiled at Chris, “Are you gonna come with us?”

“No, I’ve got work to do today. You kids have fun.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Adam’s going to take us out!” Loki nearly squealed, grinning at Adam.

“No, Adam is _not_.”

But Adam did.

(Will drove, of course, since he had his own car, but Tom felt like it might be fun to be a part of the joke.)

Will ducked into the first bookstore they came upon, and Tom almost went with him, but Loki insisted that he wanted to get Tom some new clothes. Will promised to pick Tom up something, and that he would call Adam when he was finished so they could meet up for lunch before they headed home. Loki had Tom by the wrist, dragging him into a nice clothing store with Adam trailing behind them.

“Okay, we have to get you something better than some basketball shorts and t-shirts,” Loki was saying as he pawed through the clothes, “I can’t stand the sight of basketball shorts. They remind me of high school, and that’s not a time I wish to revisit. Plus, they make you look like a middle-schooler.”

Adam kept his distance as the two of them wove through the clothes, but kept a watchful eye on them from the front of the store. Loki threw clothes at him regardless of color or design (except for orange-- “ _No_ _one_ looks good in fucking orange. I hate that color.”); some of these clothes were probably meant for girls, but Loki had already made clear that he did not give a single fuck. Finally, when Tom couldn’t carry any more clothes, Loki took the ones he’d picked for himself and decided he was gonna go try them on. Tom let him go, sifting through the clothes Loki gave him to find the pieces he actually liked.

As he was doing this, he was made aware of a group of boys, maybe his age or a year or so older, wandering into the store. It made sense; it was summer now, and the high schools would probably be on vacation. Tom ignored them as best he could, although they were making so much noise it was hard not to. Then one of them zeroed in on Tom.

“Hey!” He said, obviously not just being friendly. Tom just ignored him and went back to looking at the clothes. The boy must have been frustrated that Tom wasn’t listening, cos he said it again, more angrily this time: “Hey! I’m talking to you, curlicue!” Tom couldn’t resist looking over his shoulder at him.

“D’you mean me?” Tom asked, trying to play innocent.

“Yeah I mean you-- are those fucking girl clothes?” Tom quickly tried to hide the clothes in his arms.

“...no--”

“They are!” He shouted, just in case no one else in the store heard. “They’re girl clothes! You a fucking faggot or something?”

Before Tom could reply, before he even saw him move, Adam was there, right at his side, with a hand on his shoulder. “Is there a problem here?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, this kid’s try’na buy a buncha girl clothes!” Said the boy. Adam narrowed his eyes at him.

“I see no problem with that. You’re not in charge of what he can and can’t buy.” Tom looked up at Adam, and felt his heart fill with a newfound admiration for him.

“Yeah, but I’m in charge of if he decides to come on to me or not!” the guy argued, “I don’t want no fuckin’ faggot coming onto me try’na grab my dick or something!”

Tom saw Adam’s eyes flash, and suddenly, he had the other guy by his jaw. “Say that word again. I dare you. Call him a faggot one more fucking time and I will make absolutely positive that you regret having a tongue at all.”

The boy started squealing like a little piglet, so Adam let him go, but his eyes were still murderous. The kid stumbled out of the store, his friends dashing off behind him. Adam turned to Tom and looked him over, taking his chin gently to examine his face. Then, he pulled back and turned away. “You’re fine.”

“Thank you.” Tom said. Adam glanced over his shoulder, nodded, then went back to standing at the front of the store.

Loki did get him to try on the clothes he picked out, and Tom actually liked the way almost all of them fit him. There were a pair of distressed daisy dukes that he was bashful to buy, but Loki told him they made his ass and thighs looked great, so Loki threw them on the pile. Tom had a whole new wardrobe, and a better connection with Adam and Loki, he felt.

Tom tried on the daisy dukes again when they got home, and found that he actually really liked them. They made him blush, the way that they hugged his hips and showed the tiniest peek of his underwear on his ass. Pulling the shorts down, Tom glanced at the extra little bag from earlier and felt his face grow hot.

_“Are you sure we should be going in here?”_

_“You don’t have to come if you don’t want, but you look like you want to.” Tom did, of course._

_It was a lingerie store. Panties of all kind, all women’s, and bras as well. Neither of them would be buying a bra, but Loki apparently needed some new frilly ones because the ones he had were starting to wear down. Tom was absolutely terrified that the same thing was gonna happen at this store as the last one, but no one came in the whole time they were there. Adam had stayed outside this time, and the cashier had her nose buried in her phone, but didn’t seem to want to judge them. Loki picked out a few pairs, and told Tom he could as well, if he wanted to try them._

So Tom, finally able to express himself in the way he wanted to, had picked out three pairs of lacy panties, in all different styles: one soft pink, one dark blue, and one black. Those panties now sat in the bag on his bed-- except for the pink ones, the edges of which now poked out from the back of those hiked up little daisy dukes.

He heard a whistle when he stepped downstairs. Hal was looking him up and down, but it seemed like he did that to everyone.

“Hot _damn_ , Twinkie Pie,” Tom went red at the nickname-- a name only Hal called him, and had called him since his second day, “you look good enough to eat. Wait till Chris sees you, he might have a heart attack- OW!” Tom snorted a laugh as Will pinched a spot on Hal’s neck as he passed by. “God damn you, I was only joking! Jesus!”

Chris did gape at Tom when he got home from Miami, but it quickly turned into a smile. “You look great!” He twirled Tom around to look at him, “You look better in shorts than anyone I’ve ever seen.” But other than that, Chris didn’t make a big deal out of it.

A week or so later, Will suggested they have a movie night. Tom stretched out on the loveseat, Will reclined in the big armchair, and Loki and Adam occupied the empty couch. Briefly, Tom wondered where Chris, Mags, and Hal might be, but he brushed it off; Chris probably had work to do and Mags and Hal weren’t required to join if they didn’t want to.

Halfway through the movie, Tom thought he heard a shout and stood up. Will looked nervously in the direction of Chris’s bedroom, and Tom started to wander that way, until he heard another low cry.

“What the hell--” Will got up and dashed across the room to stop Tom.

“Tom, wait, just leave them be--”

“Them?”

Tom recognized the look on Will’s face. It was the face you make when you know you’ve fucked something up really bad with a tiny little slip-up and things will never be the same again. Adam had stopped the movie, and Loki was watching Tom and Will, but now that they were all silent, Tom could hear the muffled thumping and moaning going on down the hall. He immediately regretted saying anything.

It was Mags.

And Hal.

And Chris.

 _“Fucking shit,”_ Tom heard Mags cry out, _“one of you just fuck me already!”_

 _“Well, you heard him, Hal.”_ That was Chris. _“Fuck him, and I’ll prep you for myself.”_

_“Shit--”_

_“Ungh-- fuck! Yes!”_

_“That’s it, fuck him good and hard~”_

_“Yes, yes, yes-!”_

_“Fuck, Chris! Fuck, you’re so fucking huge…!”_

Shaking, Tom felt like his shorts were going to keep shrinking until they cut off circulation. He stood where he was, absolutely frozen to the carpet, and couldn’t stop himself from listening to the desperate moans and the faint sound of slapping skin.

“Fuck,” He heard Loki say behind him, “turn the damn movie back on, or we’ll all have to beat off right here.”

“Like we’ve never done that before.” Adam mumbled. Tom wanted to turn to look at them, to ask them what in the actual fuck was going on here, but he remained stiff as a-- well.

Mags’s screaming was becoming increasingly higher-pitched, obviously as he approached his climax. As quiet and calculating as he seemed, Tom never would have pegged him for a screamer. Loki, maybe. Will? Possibly. But not Mags. Tom rubbed at his shorts as the loud fucking down the hall got even louder and rougher, trying to ignore his own hard-on. At last, Mags let out a final scream, and soon after, the thumping and grunting and other lewd noises died off. Finally, Tom was able to move again, and he looked at the other three with the widest eyes they’d ever seen.

“What.” He squeaked.

“Tom,” Will said, and Tom could tell he was trying to keep his voice level-- though he was very obviously just as aroused as the rest of them, “Why do you think we call ourselves bunnies?”

Tom gulped, no longer at all sure of his conjecture of an inside joke. “I… I thought maybe it was an inside joke?”

“Oh sweet summer child,” Loki snorted, “haven’t you ever heard of the Playboy Bunnies?”

The world seemed to crumble beneath Tom’s feet as he finally made the connection. Bunnies. The way each of them seemed to hang on Chris sometimes. How affectionate Chris was to all of them.

“Y-you mean… you guys are all--”

“Sugar babies,” Loki said rather bluntly, “and Chris is our Sugar Daddy, but we just don’t call him that.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he liked it.” Adam mumbled, “He’s got every other kink in the book.”

Tom’s head swam. Seeing his obvious distress, Will cradled him. “Tom, darling, are you alright? Maybe you ought to go sit down.”

Tom really couldn’t find it in him to reply or even move. He just sort of leaned into the embrace and stared at the carpet. This news really was earth-shattering. Chris hadn’t told him-- maybe because he didn’t want to scare him away? Had Chris planned on turning him into a bunny all along?

Should Tom have even left London?

“Poor little lamb looks like he’s going into shock.”

“I’ll get him some water.”

They finally managed to sit him down on the couch, and the three of them doting on him seemed to pull him out of his shock. They really treated him as part of their family, and no matter what was true and what wasn’t, these were good people, and Tom was grateful that they were so sweet to him. They went on to explain that they were all here by choice; they could leave the house whenever they wanted to, and not come back if they chose, but they never left because Chris loved each and every one of them, and they loved him just the same. And they loved each other too, almost as much as they loved Chris.

“He didn’t start out with a harem,” Will chuckled. “I was his first boyfriend. His business was just taking off, and I had a great acting gig… We fell in love. But then...” Will looked over at Loki. “Then, Loki tumbled into our laps.”

Loki shrugged, “I ran away from home.” Tom looked at him, the words ‘just like me’ hung off his lips, and Loki continued, “I… don’t wanna get into it. Long story.”

“We were all taken in by Chris,” Adam muttered, “He helped us. I almost got lost to drugs in the goddamn music industry, but Chris cleaned me up. Hal, too.”

“Hal!” Will laughed, “Hal was so bloody drunk when Chris found him, he couldn’t do much more than piss himself and sob.” Tom couldn’t help but giggle.

“And Mags,” Loki said, and the three of them nodded sadly, “his mother died when he was three, and his father kicked him out of the house when he found out poor Mags was gay.”

How awful. Tom could relate; Greg was the biggest homophobe too. He used to beat Tom sometimes for being too small and not “manly” enough. And here he was, wearing frilly pink panties and teeny shorts and fawning over the biggest hunk this side of the Atlantic Ocean. Fuck you, Greg. Fuck you.

But one question was still bothering Tom. “But… is that why he took me in? I mean, will he try to turn me into a bunny?”

“No, darling,” Will shook his head, “You have a choice, just like we all did. He won’t force himself on you, and he won’t make you leave if you don’t sleep with him. Chris just wants to protect us all; he really does love us.”

“Sex is just an added bonus.” Loki agreed.

Tom swallowed and stared down at the carpet again. “S-so… what if I want to… be a bunny?” The three of them looked at each other, and he looked at each of them. “I… I think I love Chris too, and I know I definitely love all of you… This is much better than the life I left behind, and… I really want to be a part of it.”

Will stroked his hair, a small smile on his face. “Then that’s your choice. Let Chris know whenever you’re ready, darling.”

Tom nodded.

*          *         *

“What would you say if I said I want to become a bunny?”

Chris nearly choked on his lemonade.

He had been out on the terrace, reclined in a lawn chair, while the others fooled around on the beach. Adam was laying in a lawn chair under a beach umbrella, Loki was stretched out on a towel on the sand, sunning himself, and Will was stretched out next to him, his nose in his favorite book. Hal and Mags were playing in the surf, switching between tossing a frisbee, kicking sand at each other, and getting into heated make-out sessions whenever a wave happened to topple them over. Tom, dressed in a brand-new black speedo Loki had gotten for him, was stretched out on the lawn chair next to Chris. And Tom, out of the blue, had sprung this question on him.

Once Chris was finished coughing and set his lemonade on the side table, he sat straight up and looked at Tom, horrified. “Y-you want to do _what?”_

Fuck, that look. Confidence that Chris had barely ever seen from Tom was now shining in those blue-green eyes, those perfect glittering eyes that didn’t do a good job of hiding behind his sunglasses. And his gleaming white skin, those ridges of sharp hipbones and delicate ribs and _hnnghghh-_ \- FOCUS, CHRIS.

“I want to become a bunny.” Tom sat up, and leaned in close to him, his voice a seductive purr. “They told me how you love them. Take care of them. And I heard you that night, with Mags and Hal--” _shit_ , Chris had told Will to put on a movie so he wouldn’t hear! “--and Loki said you were… their Sugar Daddy.” A chill went down Chris’s spine at the last two words. Those lashes made him look too innocent. Those rosy pink lips looked irresistibly delicious--

 _NO!_ The whole reason Chris had brought Tom here in the first place was to take care of him-- not for Tom to end up like his bunnies, especially not so young. Only 16! If anyone found out, that would be disastrous. He couldn’t take care of his bunnies or Tom if he was in prison. He loved all of his bunnies, but Tom was too innocent. Far too innocent to be as tempting as he was being--oh, and so willing, too. Chris had kept a lid on it for so long, but that cap was about to blow.

“I want you to be my Daddy, too.” _Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck--_

“Tom,” Chris’s voice was shaking, “You don’t have to-- I mean… That’s not why I brought you here--”

Tom leaned in dangerously close, his lips centimeters from his ear as he whispered, “But I want to, _Daddy~_ ”

Fuck. He couldn’t take it. Chris nearly lunged at him, smashing their mouths together and lifting Tom to straddle his hips. Tom was a bit startled, but he readily wrapped his legs around Chris’s waist, kissing like he’d never kissed before and letting out a tiny mewl as their crotches rubbed together.

“ _Fuck_ , baby,” Chris groaned as Tom ground his hips down into him, “I didn’t want to pressure you, but I’ve wanted you for so long…”

“How long, Daddy?” Tom keened as their growing erections rubbed together through their clothes.

“Ever since you tried on that lacy top, back when I took you shopping. The day after we met.” Chris stroked Tom’s hips and ass, mouth coming to rest on Tom’s neck and suckling until the skin turned red and Tom moaned even louder.

“I-I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” Tom giggled between his heavy breaths, “you’re just my type, Daddy.”

“ _Ungh_ … Baby, we can’t do this now.” It almost physically hurt him to make Tom stop.

“Why?” _Oh no, not the puppy pout._

“There’s a-- a bit of a process to becoming a bunny, baby boy. I’ll have Will explain it to you tonight, okay?” Though a bit sad, Tom agreed. Chris smiled and gave his ass a firm squeeze. “There’s a good boy. Don’t worry, we’ll be together soon enough. Alright, baby?” Tom nodded, more excitedly this time. “Alright. Go take care of that gorgeous little cock, okay?” Tom giggled and kissed him again, then waddled back into the house to relieve himself.

“William!” Chris called out. When Will poked his head up, Chris beckoned him up to the patio. He closed his book and quickly trotted up to sit on Chris’s chair.

“Tom just told me he wants to be a bunny,” he said, frowning at Will, “did you put this idea in his head?”

Will snorted, “He has his own ideas, Christopher; he’s 16, not an idiot.” Immediately, Chris lightened up. William really was his little wifey, and the way Will acted only further proved that.

“Well, you know the drill, then,” Chris said softly, leaning in to nibble on Will’s earlobe, “You’ve gotta check him out in bed, and the others have each gotta spend a day with him, doing whatever they want.”

Will hummed and let his eyes drift closed. “And it has to be tonight? I thought I’d have you tonight~” Chris chuckled, and Will grinned as he slunk his arms around his neck and shoulders, “Can’t we preserve his innocence a little longer~?”

“Oh, his innocence is long gone,” Chris chuckled, “and he’s too eager to wait. You’ll have him tonight, and me… right now.”

“Mmh, works for me.”

Chris, as always, was prepared for anything. In his life, of all the quickies he’d had, he had to say that this one was among the quickest and the most oddly placed. He’d actually never had sex on one of his lawn chairs, but he could’ve done worse for a first time. Watching Will bounce up and down on his cock was always a treat (mmh, and those delightful little noises he made were the best), but there was something about being outside: the sun beating down on them, the waves crashing in the distance-- ooh, and he was sure he heard Mags screaming too, as Hal rubbed his spit-soaked fingers ruthlessly against Mags’s prostate.

*          *          *

That night, Tom was reading in his room when Will came to talk to him. Tom sat up and bounced excitedly, and Will chuckled at him as he sat down with him.

“Adorable. You’re really sure you want to join us, Tom darling?” Tom nodded, grinning, and Will nodded along with him, folding his hands in his lap. “Well, I’m to explain to you how this works. Back when this whole thing started, when Loki came to us and Chris and I agreed to welcome him into our romantic and sexual lives, we agreed on an… initiation, of sorts. Chris wanted to make sure I would be okay with having Loki in our sex life, that I wouldn’t get jealous that I had to share Chris.”

Tom nodded, and Will went on. “Well, first of all, I had to test him out in bed.” Tom turned bright red, and Will held his hands up, “I won’t be sleeping with you, love, don’t worry. I’ll leave the fucking to Chris.” (hearing Will curse was the strangest thing-- he was always so polite) “I’ll only be touching you to see where you react best and what you like.”

“And… is that it?” Tom asked.

Will smiled, “Almost, darling. You’ll also have to spend a day with each of us bunnies, doing whatever the bunny wants. The others have to approve of you too--which I know they will, you’ve been here long enough and we love you already--and then, once you finish that, Chris will take you on a date and you’ll finally get to be with him.”

“But… _days!”_ Tom whined. Will laughed.

“I know, love, I know. But it is most definitely worth it.” Tom nodded meekly, and Will leaned forward so their foreheads touched. Tom’s heart rate sped up. “Are you ready, Thomas?”

Breath hitching, Tom nodded. “Yes.” Their eyes slid closed as Will gently pressed their lips together in a slow, sensual kiss. He rested his hands on Will’s chest, and Will took that as a sign to go further. Their kisses deepened, and soon Will’s tongue was pushing into Tom’s mouth.

Throughout the whole evening, Tom was embarrassed beyond belief. Will was… Will! He shouldn’t be turning Tom on like this. Will was pretty much their mother hen, squawking at her chicks when they were misbehaving and cuddling them to keep them safe.

And yet, his “mother hen” was finding every single erogenous zone on Tom’s body and exploiting it: biting at his jugular, licking and nipping at his pulse point, tweaking and nibbling and sucking at his nipples. And as much as all his touches turned Tom on, he still seemed incredibly detached from the situation. Tom had to remind himself that this wouldn’t escalate much further than a few touches, and Will refused to remove Tom’s panties or touch anywhere on or around his cock. After Will figured he had enough to let Chris know, he kissed Tom once more, just on the forehead (like the doting mother hen he was), and apologized profusely as he left. Afterwards, Tom scrambled to get off.

Will immediately crawled into bed with Chris after finishing with Tom. Chris was half asleep, but he zeroed in on the warm body next to him, spooning against him and nuzzling into his neck.

“How did he do?” Chris mumbled. Will smiled as his eyes slid closed.

“You’ll love him, Chris. He’s such a sensitive little thing.”

Chris hummed and wrapped his arm around Will, kissing his nape. “I remember when you and I were that young.”

Will snorted. “You had such a baby face.”

“And you were the cutest little twink who’d never even kissed a guy.” They both laughed, and Chris went on, “I remember when you first let me fuck you, too. Up against the wall in the men’s room of that club--you were barely legal, and I was, what… twenty-six?”

“You make it sound like so long ago.”

“It was. Eight years, it’s been.”

“Nuh-uh, no way.”

Chris grinned and buried his face in his back. “Go to sleep, mother hen.”

Will snorted. “Good night, you old cock.”

The rest of Tom’s initiation went very smoothly. Each of the other bunnies welcomed him even more (though they still tried their best to shield him from when Chris would screw one of them senseless). For the next five days, Tom was caught up in more activities than he usually did in a week.

Day one, Adam. Adam showed him his room, which was messy and adorned with so many records and CDs he wondered how he kept track of them all. Tom had never even held a guitar before, but Adam let him play one of his. Standing over him from behind, Adam showed him where to place his fingers on the frets, how to strum with a pick, and which notes each of them played. When Tom finally got the hang of it, Adam let him do it on his own, and sat himself down to play the drums to keep the beat for him. Tom felt so special-- it was almost as if they were in a band! I mean, his guitar playing was amateuristic, but it still felt awesome.

Day two, Loki nabbed him. They began the day with Mean Girls--Tom had never seen it and Loki was appalled--and then Loki proceeded to show Tom how to do his makeup and nails, and even how to wear simple things and still look like a fashionista. (Tom remarked that Loki _always_ looked fabulous, even when he wasn’t wearing anything, and Loki, of course, smacked his arm and agreed.)

Day three, Magnus. Mags didn’t talk much--it seemed he wasn’t as used to this as the others were, which was understandable--but he drove Tom into town. When they pulled into a Best Buy, Tom became uncontrollably excited. Mags helped him pick out a computer and a phone--something Chris had suggested. Tom didn’t have a cell phone or a computer; not since he left London (One of his old “friends” told him that they could be traced, and Tom didn’t want to risk that). He was so happy, bouncing around the store like a kid at Christmas, and he even saw Mags smile, which was a rare sight.

Day four, Hal. He seemed the most changed by Tom joining them, and didn’t tease him or flirt with him as much as he used to. He acted the big brother to Tom now, just as they all seemed to. He and Tom built a pillow fort in the TV room and watched a bunch of old movies--and when Hal popped in one of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, he pulled Tom up and showed him how to dance. They danced until they flopped over onto their pillow fort, laughing at Tom’s two left feet.

Last came Will. He took Tom into town too, and showed him the biggest bookstore Tom had ever seen. It had a little cafe, as most did, and they both picked a book and sat down with cups of tea, and read quietly. Tom had come to terms with what had happened the other night, and had brushed it off. His whole life was changing, and he needed to accept it for what it was, because in a strange sense, it really was beautiful.

*          *          *

“What are you gonna wear?”

Tom looked up from his book, his eyebrows raised at Hal. “Pardon?”

“Big night tonight,” Hal grinned as he leaned across the kitchen counter on his elbows, “Chris is taking you on your first date. What’re you gonna wear?”

Tom shrugged and gestured to what he was wearing-- which was nothing frumpy: a clean pair of jeans and a form-fitting sleeveless shirt, with a shark-tooth necklace Adam had given him. “I dunno, maybe this?”

A loud thumping sounded from the stairs, and a halfway-primped and slightly frazzled Loki burst into the kitchen doorway. He looked like he just walked out of a Jane Austen book: frilly white corset, bloomers, and a green satin dressing gown with puffy sleeves. His eyes--only one of which had his usual eyeliner and mascara--were wide and crazed, as if he was witnessing an unspeakable atrocity.

“My fashion senses are tingling.”

“Slow down there, Cher; take a breather.” Hal laughed, “I was just about to tell our lovely twink to try and dress up for his big night with Chris tonight.”

“Wrong,” Loki snapped before Tom could defend himself, “I will be dressing him up for tonight, and you’re gonna help me.”

“Oh, lord save me.” Hal rolled his eyes.

Two hours before Chris was even meant to take him on the date, Loki herded both Tom and Hal into Tom’s room to help pick out something. All of Tom’s clothes had accumulated on his bed, and the two older guys were arguing over what kind of look Tom should go for. Tom hadn’t gotten a single word in edgewise.

“Less is more,” Hal was saying, “Everyone knows Chris is just gonna tear off his clothes once the date’s over anyway, so he should wear less clothing.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You know nothing about fashion. It’s not about convenience, it’s about presentation! Do you think I’m wearing a bloody corset because it gives me curves?” He snorted and pulled a few more things out of Tom’s closet. “No, he needs to wear something sexy and dressy. Plus, Chris never tells us what he’s gonna do whenever he takes us a single one of us out, especially on the first date. And if Tom is underdressed?” He ‘tsked’ and held up a shirt--one Tom recognized. “What’s this one? I didn’t get you this.”

Tom smiled. It was the same sort of lacy-baked shirt as the one he found when he first went shopping with Chris, but this one was one he’d found while in town during his first week living here. It was royal blue in the front, and hung loose from his shoulders and chest; it had a lace back, but the straps were lace too. On the front, among all the blue, thin black and silver wisps curled away and around tiny little rhinestones.

Hal whistled. “It’s bloody gorgeous. That’s the one.”

“Blue,” Loki grimaced, “not one of my favorite colors, but it’ll look good on you, Twinkie Pie.”

“Hey!” Hal pointed a finger in warning at him, “That’s my nickname, no one calls him that but me.”

Loki stuck his tongue at Hal as he dug for something to put with the shirt. “Bite me, English.”

“Oh, you’d love me to.”

“You know it.” Loki smirked and tossed a pair of torn black denim shorts at Tom. “There, wear those with it. Oh! And, I have something for you.” Loki hurried out of the room and came back thirty seconds later, then threw a scrap of black lace at him. “Looked at the size when we were shopping that one day we were out. Hopefully those’ll fit. Try ‘em on.”

“Welp, that’s my cue,” Hal got up, “I’ll watch the door outside, let me know when you’re done changing.”

“What, too bashful to see? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Hal sneered at Loki, “Ha, ha. Holler when you need me.” He stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

There was never a moment when Tom regretted making this decision. He was a part of this family now, and he was happy to have help in this final step in joining it. Besides, he wanted Chris more than he had wanted anyone before, and even though this whole process seemed a bit messed up, it could still be seriously worse. Tom wasn’t being forced to do anything, and he was buzzing with anticipation and excitement for this date--his first, might I add.

Loki nodded in approval as Tom showed him how the panties looked-- it was a thick thong, with black lace in the front and the smallest green satin bow at the top. Tom quickly pulled on the shorts and shirt, adjusting it in his mirror.

Outside the door, Hal leaned against the wall, arms crossed and glancing down the hallway every now and again. Whatever Loki teased him, it didn’t matter; it was fun to flirt with the kid, but Hal wanted no part of seeing that poor thing naked. It was illegal, among other things, and while he was sure they’d never get found out, he still didn’t want to mess with the kid until he was eighteen. At least Mags was legal, and Hal was mostly just partial to him and to Chris, as they all were.

Speaking of the devil, Chris came tromping upstairs, halfway dressed in an open white button-up and dark jeans. He grinned and raised an eyebrow when he saw Hal.

“What’re you three doing up here?” Chris asked. “Will tells me Loki offered to help Tom get ready?”

“That’s right~” Hal grinned at him and blocked the door, his hands curled around the edge of both sides of the doorframe. Chris looked at him, curious.

“Can I… see Tom?”

“No.” Hal chuckled. “He’s not ready.” Chris, more interested than ever now, slid his hands around Hal’s hips and planted kisses on his neck.

“Not even just a peek~?” He purred.

“Tche,” Hal smirked, leaning back against the door, “Don’t think I don’t see through that~ you’re not getting past me, mister. Now, shoo. Go finish getting ready, we’ll bring Tom down when he’s done.” Pouting his best, Chris planted a kiss on him, but obliged and slunk back downstairs. Once he was gone, a knock came at the door, and Hal slipped back into the room.

“Wow.” Was his reaction to Tom, who was finally dressed. The shirt was perfectly draped on his shoulders, the shorts were the perfect length down his thighs, and he wore a pair of thin black sandals (they were the only shoes he had besides a pair of worn converse slip-ons, which Loki wrinkled his nose at and made a note to take Tom shoe shopping later).

“Oh shut up,” Loki said, “I haven’t even done his makeup yet.”

“You sure that’s even necessary?” Tom asked, “I mean… Not that I doubt you, but--” He swallowed nervously as Loki gave him an arched eyebrow.

“He’ll smear it at the end of the night.” Hal offered. “Sweating, kissing-- maybe even a few tears of ecstasy?” Tom went bright pink and cast his eyes down, giving a meek nod.

Loki heaved a long sigh and pouted. “All right. At least let me do his nails and toes. And an itty-bitty touch of waterproof mascara.”

At the end of the second hour, Tom’s nails had finally dried, and his eyes were now crowned in delicate, extended lashes. He was hesitant to let Loki do it, but when he was done, Tom couldn’t believe how much bigger it made his eyes look. It was perfect.

Chris waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on the bottom rail. He looked up as Loki and Hal appeared at the top of the stairs, one on each side of the staircase. Both of them were smirking, and Loki looked back before Tom appeared.

Chris’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

Tom couldn’t be more beautiful. He almost seemed to be glowing as he slowly made his way down the staircase, long lashes flitting together as he blinked at Chris. He was dressed so simply, with torn black shorts and a gorgeous blue blouse-- and it had a lacy black backing, just like the one Tom had picked out when they first met. And sandals-- perfect for what Chris had in mind for tonight.

“Oh my…” Chris stood at the bottom of the stairs, so that his hands met with Tom’s hips, stroking gently. “Tom, you… you look like an angel. You’re so beautiful.” He grinned up at Hal and Loki, before taking Tom’s arm and leading him out the back door and onto the patio.

Hal turned to head back towards his room, swatting at Loki’s ass as he went. “Still want that bite, eh?”

Loki rolled his eyes. (But followed him, of course.)

Tom gasped. “Oh, Chris!”

The steps off the patio were lined on either side with lit candles, and a path was laid out on the sand from the bottom of the stairs down to a table by the water by more of them. Rose petals were scattered along the path made by these candles, and the ocean, just reaching high tide, was mere feet from the table. The table itself was set for two, with four tiki torches encircling it. A cooler was tucked under the table, and a bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice, next to yet another candle on top of the table.

“I set it all up while I was waiting for you,” Chris said, hooking his arm around his hip and leading him down the path. (Along the way, Tom ditched his sandals to feel the sand between his toes). “You like it?”

“I love it, Daddy.” Tom pressed into Chris’s side as they made their way down the beach, nuzzling into his shoulder. Chris, like a proper gentleman, pulled out a chair for Tom to sit before going to the cooler. Tom tucked his legs under the chair, leaning on his elbows on the table. “What’s in there~?”

“Ice-cold sushi,” Chris grinned and brought up a tray of the stuff, and Tom grinned in surprise. “I bought it from that nice place in town; the one we all like. I also have some homemade pudding-- Will made it, just for us. Do you like wine?” Chris held up the bottle, and Tom looked up at him, “It’s really sweet, I like it.”

Tom smirked at him. “Trying to get me drunk, Daddy~?”

Chris laughed and went back to the cooler, bringing out a can of Coke. “I have this, too.”

Tom smiled and nodded. “I’ll have that, please. I want to stay sober for tonight.” Chris nodded in understanding, and poured himself a glass of wine.

They began eating in comfortable silence, and Tom’s eyes fluttered when the delicious food hit his palate. Everything about this night was perfect and just how he imagined it would be--and even more. A romantic dinner on the beach? Wine, candles, rose petals? The most perfect guy? It was a dream come true. By the time they finished the pudding, Tom had nearly flown over the moon.

"How was it?" Chris asked, smiling.

"Orgasmic." Tom replied, smirking at his own word choice. Chris’s gaze darkened, and smirked right back at him.

"You're gonna kill me, baby. You want me that badly?"

Tom leaned across the table, setting his hand over Chris’s. "More than I've wanted anything, Daddy. I love you, and I want you."

"Well, get over here, then."

Tom couldn't get up from his seat fast enough. Chris turned his chair, and Tom sat down in his lap, facing out. Chris's warm hands wrapped around him, feeling their way up his shirt and gently rubbing at his nipples. Tom leaned his head back against Chris's shoulder, groaning low and rubbing his ass into Chris's crotch.

"You _are_ sensitive," Chris remarked, grinning and nibbling at his neck, "I'm barely touching you and look-- your nipples are hard already. I can only wonder how hard your cock must be."

"It's all your fault, Daddy," Tom said between heavy breaths, "I've been imagining being with you for so long... but now that it's happening, I-- _ohh!"_ He moaned when Chris flicked his nipples and suckled on his neck.

"My baby," Chris mumbled against his skin, "so ready and wanting for me... You want _this?_ " He rocked his hips, rubbing his bulge against Tom's ass.

Tom whined and rocked his hips back. "Yes! Yes, Daddy, I want to be filled with you~"

"You want me to bend you over this table?" Chris mumbled against his ear, "Or maybe I should lay out a blanket and fuck you on the sand, eh?"

"Nnnh," Tom whimpered, squirming on his lap, "D-daddy, wait..."

Chris paused, instantly regretting everything. Was he moving too fast? Did Tom not like dirty talking? Was he having second thoughts about sleeping with Chris? Chris only wanted Tom to be happy, not to do something he felt pressured to do. Obviously, Chris wanted to fuck him senseless, but only if Tom wanted to. "What is it? I'm sorry if I was--"

"N-no!" Tom said, turning to look at him, "No, it's not you. I just..."

Chris stroked his side, "Baby, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"No! I want to, it's just..." Tom's already flushed face seemed to get redder, "We're outside. I'd like to... I want my first time to be in a bed."

 _First. Time_. He knew Tom was young, but he'd had no clue that he was a virgin. He figured he must have had at least a little experience, with how forward he'd been when he asked for this. But no, this poor sweet twinky boy was a virgin. Chris swallowed and quickly slipped his hands out of Tom’s shirt and gripped his hips. “First time. Of course, baby, I-- oh god, yes. Let’s go.”

They left the table; Chris would clean it up in the morning. All he cared about right now was Tom. Sweet, beautiful Tom. Sweet beautiful Tom who was now standing in his bedroom, barefooted and pink-cheeked, bony little fingers toying with the hem of his gorgeous shirt. Every nerve in Chris’s body was going crazy for every inch of this boy: his full pink lips, the tiny bit of baby fat in his cheeks, bright blue eyes, and the amazing body Chris could just barely see underneath his clothes.

Chris smiled softly as he approached his new bunny, his hands sliding underneath that shirt. He could feel the shiver that went down Tom’s body as Chris’s fingers curled around Tom’s sides. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” He whispered as Tom pressed against him, “You’re beautiful and you’re bright, and you deserve the best things in the world.”

Arms around his neck, Tom smiled and muttered against Chris’s lips, “Is that why you helped me that day, Daddy? When we first met?”

“Sort of,” Chris chuckled, kissing down his neck, “I wanted to help you. I wanted to protect you, keep you safe. You deserve it baby, you really do.” When he pulled back, he saw Tom’s eyes filling up with tears. His smile faded a bit, until he realized that Tom was smiling with more love and happiness than Chris had seen in a very long time.

“Show me, Chris,” Tom said, his voice wavering and his hands stroking Chris’s cheeks, “Show me how much you love me.”

Grinning, Chris’s hands found their way into the back of Tom’s shorts. “I was planning on it~ ooh, what’s this?” Tom gasped as Chris fingered at the thong he was wearing.

Pouting, Tom squirmed, “It was supposed to be a surprise for you, Daddy.”

“Then undress and surprise me, my little baby bunny. I wanna see how you look.” Chris backed up to sit on the bed, unbuttoning his own shirt.

Tom grinned and eagerly took his shirt off, then ever-so-slowly stripped out of his shorts. He turned, displaying the panties proudly. It took every ounce of self control Chris had not to pounce, and instead, he waved Tom over. Excited, the boy nearly bounced onto the bed, thighs straddling Chris’s hips.

“This is beautiful, baby.”

Tom bit his lip, grinning. “It was a gift from Loki.”

“Well, I’ll have to thank him in the morning.” Teeth connected gently with Tom’s jugular, right at his sensitive spot. He leaned his head back, grinding downwards and letting out a moan. Those big, warm hands found his asscheeks and began to squeeze and knead, a pleased growl rumbling in Chris’s chest. “Fuck, you’re perfect. So perfect, baby. I can’t wait to pound this perfect, round little ass of yours.”

Groaning, Tom slid his hands over Chris’s chest. “Then hurry up and get naked, Daddy~ I want to see you.”

“Of course, baby.” Chris got up and threw off his shirt, which was quickly followed by his jeans and boxers, leaving him completely naked before Tom. Tom gaped at him, eyes dragging over every inch of Chris’s body. He was very obviously impressed, and then his eyes zeroed in on Chris’s crotch, and they became clouded with lust.

“Daddy...” he mumbled, holding out his arms. Chris gladly crawled over him, but Tom backed away, smirking as he teased him. They crawled back on the bed together until Tom was leaning against the headboard, Chris’s gaze predatory and hungry.

For an instant, their faces only hovered close to one another, and they gazed at each other, eyes half-lidded. There was a new life about to start, and this was the crossroads. The point of no return. After this, Tom couldn’t turn back, and they both knew it. One little kiss, and the dam broke.

One kiss became two, and two became a tangled mess of lips and spit and tongues. Hands wandered, frenzied over naked chests, shoulders, and hard nipples. Sparks flew, and Tom's skin was alight with electricity wherever Chris touched him, and every kiss and every hickey left him wanting more and more. At last, Chris tossed his panties and freed his cock.

"Perfect..." Chris mumbled as he trailed kisses down Tom's stomach and nuzzled into the little tuft of blonde hair just above his shaft. His half-hard erection nudged against Chris's Adam's Apple, and Chris's eyes flicked up to meet with Tom's, who blushed from ear to ear at the sight of Chris about to go down on him. He couldn't tear his eyes away as Chris sucked the head into his mouth and suckled, and an incredibly involuntary gasp escaped his mouth. The sound of it made Tom clap his own hand over his own mouth. Chris smirked around his tip, then pulled back to mutter: "Don't hold back, baby. Let me hear you."

A strangled moan left Tom's throat as Chris pulled him back into his mouth. "Ah! Daddy~" Chris hummed around him, bobbing his head agonizingly slow and swirling his tongue. Tom felt himself building up, quicker than he ever had before, and had to grab at the pillow he was laying on. His mouth stretched in a silent scream, knuckles turning white. "Yesss-!" he hissed, "Fuck, Daddy, I'm gonna-- I'm gonna come-!"

Chris smirked and hollowed his cheeks, wordlessly coaxing Tom to climax. With a gasping cry, Tom came, and Chris swallowed every drop. Tom lay there after he was done, stars dancing along the edges of his vision, and Chris crawled back up to kiss him gently-- Tom didn't even mind that he could taste himself.

“Hands and knees, little bunny,” Chris panted, his voice hoarse, “lemme see your perfect little hole.” Tom obeyed, shaking a little bit from his orgasm, but not at all lacking in energy. Chris parted his cheeks, nudging his knees apart on the bed, and moaned when he saw how absolutely delicious Tom looked like this: ass up in the air, his front half balanced on his forearms, ears turned pink, while his cute little face nuzzled into the pillow, embarrassed.

“Look at you.” Chris groaned, reaching for his lube and kissing Tom’s tailbone. “You ever fingered yourself, baby?”

Tom shook his head, “N-no…”

“Why not, baby~?”

“It’s embarrassing, Daddy...”

Chris chuckled, “Baby boy, no need to be embarrassed. Let me show you.” After a pause, Tom nodded, and Chris slicked his fingers up with a generous amount of lube. He rubbed it around Tom’s little hole, then pushed one finger in, slowly. Tom cried out, but Chris stroked his back, mumbling little sweet nothings to try and soothe him. He planted a kiss on his hip and began to slowly wriggle his finger in and out.

Tom gasped and squirmed, “Daddy… f-feels weird…”

“Just a minute, baby. You’ll get used to it soon, and then it’ll feel amazing.”

Chris was worried that he was hurting Tom as he gradually added two more fingers, but soon enough, Tom was making more and more of those delicious noises. Which, of course, only spurred Chris on further. He curled his fingers and kept thrusting, and smirked deviously when Tom cried out again.

“There! Oh, Daddy, what is that? Feels... so _good!”_ Tom gasped.

“That’s your prostate, baby boy.” Chris said, revelling in Tom’s continued moans and mewls, “Fuck, baby, you could make me come just from your sweet little noises~”

Tom shook his head, finally looking back at Chris. “No…! I want you to come in me, Daddy; want you to fill me up.”

Chuckling, Chris finally slipped his fingers out. “As you wish, baby.”

Tom whined at the loss of the fingers, and when Chris began to reach for a condom from his side table, he reached a hand out to grab his arm. “No, don’t use that.”

“No?” Chris raised an eyebrow.

Tom shook his head. “No, I want to really feel you. I’m--” he glanced away, “--I’m a virgin, so I don’t have anything. Are you clean?”

Chris nodded, “Of course I am, baby. I just want you to feel safe.”

Tom smiled and kissed him. “I’m with you now, Daddy. That’s all I need to feel safe.” Chris smiled lovingly and kissed back, but just as he was about to set him back on all fours, Tom turned back again. “Wait, Daddy, I wanna look at you.”

“Okay, little bunny.” Chris smiled, kissed him, and coaxed him down onto his back, spreading his legs apart. “Ready for me?”

“I am~”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Chris chided as he lined himself up. “where are your manners?” He touched his tip to Tom’s slicked-up hole.

“Please, Daddy,” Tom whined, _“please!”_

“Please what~?”

“Please fuck me, Daddy- _nngh!”_ The last syllable devolved into a groan as Chris slid into him. For a few minutes, neither of them moved except to breathe. Ragged panting was the only sound filling the room, punctuated by a small whimper every now and again, as Tom tried to adjust to Chris’s girth.

“S-so big…” Tom mumbled, “I’ve been waiting so long for your cock, Daddy, and now…” He cut himself off with a huff of breath and a smile, and hooked his arms around Chris’s neck. “Daddy, please. You can move.”

“Are you sure, baby?”

Tom’s only reply was a simple nod, and Chris slowly began to move in long, slow thrusts. Tom felt like he never had before; finally filled and oh it felt so amazing. The more Chris moved, the more Tom’s desire grew and grew. Feeling that push and pull wasn’t enough--he needed more.

“Hah… f-faster, Daddy…”

Chris grinned and sped up, and each thrust sent a thousand volts of electricity arcing up his spine, stimulating him in ways he’d never even imagined. Their bodies moved together, in such rhythm and synced just so, that Chris seemed to know just where to thrust and how deep to drive Tom crazy. His moans and pleas-- _“Ah! Yes, Daddy!” “Please, more!” “Yes, fuck me **right there** Daddy!”_ \--started to become garbled, lost in pants and keens and mewls. Chris drove into him mercilessly, pushing his thighs up so Tom was nearly bent in half. They were so close, _so close_ …

*          *          *

Chris sat bolt upright in bed, the sheets tangling around his legs as he kicked instinctively. His hair was wild and his eyes even more so, as he became painfully aware of the throbbing erection in his boxers. His sudden movement had jostled the formerly-sleeping body of the man next to him.

“Chris?” a sleepy voice asked, “Darling, what is it?”

His mouth dry, Chris didn’t answer at first. He looked around the room; his eyes settled on the clock, and he finally got his bearings.

He was Chris Hemsworth. He was a 31-year-old Australian Actor, not a billionaire. The man lying next to him, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, was 34-year-old British Actor Tom Hiddleston; not a 16-year-old runaway with a Daddy Kink. He did not live in a mansion in the Florida Keys with five other versions of said 34-year-old British Actor, he was in his boyfriend’s bed. It was 3:16 AM, on February the 8th, 2015, in the home of Tom Hiddleston, in London, England.

“It was…” Chris mumbled, trying to make sense of the dream. “You. A lot of different yous. ...and it was hot.”

Tom, still half-asleep, furrowed his eyebrows at his disoriented boyfriend. “...that’s it, no more beer before bed.” He turned over, pulling the blankets closer to him.

“No, it was a dream. A really weird one.” Chris said, curling up against him to spoon him.

“Well, apparently not too weird, if your dick is _that_ interested.” He could practically hear the smirk in Tom’s voice.

“Not gonna lie, having an orgy with a bunch of different versions of you? Pretty hot.” A laugh rumbled in his chest as he ground his crotch into Tom’s ass.

“You will definitely have to tell me more in the morning.” Tom ground his ass back, and Chris huffed into his ear.

“ _Or_ I could show you, right now.”

“That works too.”

 

.

End.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so bit of AU at the end, where Chris is dating Tom and not with Elsa. uwu just cos I didn't want to over-complicate it becAUSE THIS THING IS TOO MUCH ALREADY.
> 
> DON'THATEMEPLEASE


End file.
